“Pretty damn good,” Raze countered. His broad chest expanded and slowly relaxed as he let out air. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you that I’m sorry about Wyatt.”
The name sliced into Jax’s gut, and he fought a wince. “Thanks.”
“Seems like he was the heart around here.”
Jax nodded. “Yeah. Well, he and Tace were both full of heart.” Now Wyatt fed the worms and Tace searched for his humanity. “Lynne is a sweetheart, but people don’t trust her, so she can’t take that role. Sami is fighting her own demons, whatever they are, and she doesn’t reach out to others. And we both know you’re here for reasons of your own.”
“Yep.”
“Most special ops guys don’t share much.”
Raze twirled a knife end over end. “I never said I was special ops.”
“Like you needed to.” Jax crossed his arms. “You’re not army.”
“Nope.” Raze cocked his head to the side.
“Not Green Beret or Secret Service.” Jax rubbed his chin. “Beyond a SEAL.” He smiled. “SEAL Team Six, were you?”
Raze lifted an eyebrow. “No such thing.”
Right. “How did you end up here, man?” Jax asked.
“A story for another day.” Raze slid the blade back into the sheath at his belt. “I knew you needed to take out Twenty, and I had a score to settle, so I figured I’d help out.”
Jax rolled his neck. “I appreciate the help. Is there any chance you’ll take a more active role around here?” He could really use somebody with Raze’s training.
“No.” Raze eyed the gathering dark clouds. “Why are you doing this?”
“Huh?”
Raze settled again. “With your skills, you could’ve headed into the woods and just lived off the land. You don’t have family, you didn’t have friends, and you didn’t have a woman when you gathered this hodgepodge of a group together. So why?”
Jax frowned. “We were under attack, by first the bacteria and then rival gangs, so I just reacted. There were people to save.” He lifted a shoulder. “I’ve been fighting ever since, and that’s all I know. Now I’ve vowed to end Cruz for my brother.” And he’d promised safety to a woman, one who needed protection more than any other person on earth. “To be honest, I always figured we’d find a cure, regroup, and then the government would step in.” Was it too much to hope that might still happen?
“It’s funny. With all the stories about you, almost making you a legend, nothing hints that you’re such an optimist.”
An optimist? Jax snorted. “I’m not even close.”
“You think we’re going to survive Scorpius and go on? I mean, as a species?” Raze asked.
Jax paused, his mind clicking. “Yes. Don’t you?”
Raze scratched the stubble on his chin. “No. I think we’re tilting at windmills right now.”
Jax studied him. “Then why fight?”
“I’ve got my own reasons.” Raze pushed off the wall.
“I got that the second you walked into camp,” Jax said easily. “You might be quiet, but this isn’t my first rodeo. I read you day one. I just don’t know what your agenda is.”
“I figured.”
Okay. Jax made to go. “Well, good talk. While you’re being helpful, I wouldn’t mind if you helped train some of the civilians.” He’d gotten sucked in with friends; maybe Raze would, too.
“Happy to help, but, Jax?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m not a group activity type of guy.”
Finally, they were planning to go to Myriad in the morning. She was so close. Lynne tried to focus while working in the headquarters infirmary after dinner, taking note of a soldier with an infected cut. They needed some antibiotics. She wondered how many kids in the center of the territory had infections, ear or tonsil, that weren’t getting better. “I’d kill for some amoxicillin,” she said to Tace.
“People already have.” He finished organizing their meager supply of bandages. “Why don’t you head on up and get some sleep? When Jax says we’re leaving at first dawn, he means it.”
Her eyes ached, and her temples pounded. While she wouldn’t sleep, lying down and shutting her eyes for a minute couldn’t hurt. “Okay.” She dodged through the rec room and up to the apartment, shoving open the door.
She stilled at finding Jax inside. Moonlight, weak and waning, cut through the boards over the window to light the area. “What are you doing?” she asked, glancing at a pile of clothing and weapons on the couch.
“Come here,” he said, tugging a pair of jeans from the bottom of the pile. “Put these on.”
She hesitated at the door. “I like my yoga pants.”
“Too bad. You’ll need jeans, something sturdier for your legs and weapons, tomorrow.” He held out the denim. “Try these on.”
Great. Jax Mercury in full bossy mode was too much at the moment. She approached the couch, kicked off her shoes, and added a shimmy to her ass when she dropped the yoga pants. Trying to appear innocent, she held out a hand for the jeans.
His lids dropped to half-mast, and he handed over the denim. Masculine tension filtered through the room and took over the atmosphere.
She slid into them, shaking her butt, sucking in her stomach to button the top. They were tight but would loosen upon wearing.
Jax slid a gun belt around her waist and tightened it, dropping to his haunches to attach the two strips to her right leg. “I’ve seen the way you can shoot.” He shoved a black gun into the weapon holder, his face near her midriff.
“Yes.” She settled her weight to keep balanced, her abdomen heating. “I practiced with my uncle as we made our way here.” Talking about Bruce hurt somewhere deep in her chest.
Jax glanced up, his hands going to her thighs. “Your uncle was trained?”
“Yes. He was retired NYPD,” she said, sadness hollowing out her stomach. “Helped me get out of the CDC, as you know, and then we ran.”
Jax’s brown eyes softened. “How did your uncle die?”
Lynne swallowed and bit down rage. “The Elite Force caught up with us in Arizona, and it was ugly.”
Jax breathed out and stood. “They killed your uncle?”
“Yes.” Tears sprang to Lynne’s eyes, and she batted them back.
“Give me the story,” Jax said, reaching for a pair of black leather boots. “But first things first. Try these on.”
She slipped her feet into the boots, which were only a size too large. “They’re okay. I can find socks.” Then she sighed. “We were camping outside Tucson with a nice community led by a retired sheriff, and word came in that government soldiers were nearing. A sniper took out Uncle Bruce right beside me.” She’d never forget the shock and slice of instant pain.
“How did you get away?”
She winced at the ache in her heart. “The sheriff had booby traps everywhere, and he kept the soldiers busy while I took off on a dirt bike.” Hell, she’d almost crashed into several trees, but she’d made it. “I moved at night and stayed with a nice group of people for a couple of nights in Lake Havasu City. Then I kept on running, trying to get here, taking back roads or no roads at all.” She’d been so scared and alone.
“I’m sorry about your uncle.” Jax placed a knife right inside each boot. “Did he train you in knives?”
“Not really.”
“Okay.” Jax removed a knife and put the handle in her palm. “Strike here, here, or upward here.” He pointed to his thigh, beneath his breastbone, and under his chin. “Just remember your knowledge of anatomy, and you’ll be fine. Go for the softest entry and the ones with major blood vessels or arteries.”
She hoped she didn’t get close enough in a fight to use a blade. “Understood.” Her hand shook when she replaced the knife in her boot.
Jax grasped a worn bulletproof vest and secured it over her chest. “This is the best one we have, but try not to get shot.”
She gulped.
He sighed. “Okay, so I want to w
ork on hand-to-hand, but first we need to change your mind-set.”
The vest lay heavy over her chest, much heavier than she would’ve thought. How did soldiers and cops run with so much weight, in addition to weapons and supplies? “My mind-set is clear. I can kill if needed.” In fact, she had. She’d killed Red and his friend just the other day.
Jax slid a hand through her hair, holding her in place. “You’ve killed in self-defense. We need to change your mind-set from survival to attack mode.”
She blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“I know. Right now, you’re prepared if somebody comes at you. You’d attack in the name of getting to safety, right?”
She ran the words over her tongue. “Right.”
He shook his head. “This isn’t about keeping safe or defense. This is offense. If it’s you and the darkness, you’re the scary thing out there. You’re hunting, not trying to hide. Get it?”
Kind of. “I think so.”
Jax leaned in, his gaze intense. “Your whole life, you’re a good girl. Smart and strong—you know you can defend yourself if necessary. A guy breaks into your house, maybe you shoot him, maybe you get to safety to call the cops. Right?”
“Right.”
“Now”—Jax leaned in—“you’re the guy breaking in. There’s no safety, and there’s no cops. You’re the predator.”
Okay, that was a shift in thinking. “Is that how you do it? Fight wars?”
“Yes.” He released her and stepped back. “Your reasons may be honorable, and your purpose for fighting a good one, but in the heat of the battle? You have to be the one feared. Period.”
Lynne shrugged out of the vest and allowed Jax to remove her weapons belt. “Is that how you’ve survived?”
“Yes. Being the worst thing in the dark always means survival.” He dropped her weapons onto the couch. “How are you in hand-to-hand?”
“Terrible.” Traveling so much, they hadn’t had much time to work on those skills. “I know to strike first and try to debilitate my enemy so I can run. Hand-to-hand, with a guy trained like you, my best recourse is to get away.”
Jax nodded. “If you can’t get away, you get brutal. It’s the same mind-set. They should be scared of you and not the other way around.”
“I understand.” Of course, that was with humans. Rippers didn’t get scared, and neither would Bret. He had seemed to thrive on the fear around him. Lynne tried to force a smile. “How did it go with Byron and Jill?”
Jax winced. “She was scared to death of me. I had no idea.”
Wow, he was clueless with people. Yet somehow so sweet in how hard he was trying. Lynne leaned in and pressed her hands to his ripped abs. Even through the cotton T-shirt, powerful muscles filled her palms. “I’m sure she’s better now.”
“Maybe.” Jax ran his hands down Lynne’s arms. “I don’t have protection. Forgot to ask Tace for it.”
Lynne lifted her head to look in his eyes. “Did you think I was making a move?”
He smiled, transforming his face into dark masculine beauty. “I guess I was hoping.”
Man, she’d like to surprise him for once. So she dropped to her knees and reached for his belt.
His sharp intake of breath spurred her on, giving her confidence. “Lynne?” he asked, his voice rough.
She unzipped his jeans and tugged them down, humming at his already erect penis. “What I have in mind doesn’t require condoms.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Humanity and technology don’t necessarily go hand in hand.
—Dr. Franklin Xavier Harmony
Jax peered out the windshield as dawn rose over the horizon. The truck was old but sturdy and full of gas. Lynne rode shotgun, while Raze and Byron followed in a battered Ford pickup. He hated using the fuel and being seen in vehicles, but they’d need the cargo room if they found anything.
They passed between a series of old markets, where a group of cats scoured the area, searching for food.
Stress crackled across the truck, coming from his woman. She’d been tense all morning. “Do you understand what to do if we get separated?” he asked.
She huffed out air, nerves all but shooting from her. “For the love of all that’s holy, yes, I understand. I have an IQ well above normal, and I get it. Stop giving me orders.”
Okay, definitely tense and nervous about the mission.
While he could sympathize, he needed her to focus. He drove around a downed red Ferrari, heading into the heart of what used to be L.A. “I give orders, and you take them. Period.” On missions, he couldn’t allow for any back talk.
She rolled her eyes. “You are so cranky.”
“I am not,” he returned, wincing when he ran over a monstrous pothole. “I just don’t like leaving the compound or using fuel, so we need this raid to go right.”
“Whatever.” She turned to watch out the window. “Most guys are at least halfway in a good mood after a blow job, you know.”
He blinked. It had been a hell of a blow job, and then he’d returned the favor before they grabbed a few hours of sleep. “Focus, Harmony.”
“Yep,” she muttered to herself. “Great mood.”
He skirted piles of debris. “The blow job was excellent, but if you did it for me, you missed the mark.”
Her head swung full force toward him. “Excuse me? If I did it for you? No, Jax. Believe me, we women wake up wanting more than anything to suck cock. In fact, I woke up that morning thinking, man, I’d love to suck on Jax’s dick until he comes down my throat. Yep. Big dreams there.”
He gave her a look, his mouth twitching. “I meant that if you wanted to decrease my tension, it’s impossible right now. But I did like your mouth around my cock.”
“Nice, Jax. Geez.” Her shoulders moved down from around her ears. “Last night wasn’t planned, and I didn’t have any ulterior motive like to ease tension. It’s just, well, I wanted to.”
“Thank you.” He kept his gaze on the road. Should he have thanked her the night before? Hell, he’d gone down on her, truly enjoying himself, and made her orgasm twice. “In fact, you owe me one.”
She chuckled, and sounded surprised. “Shut up. We are done talking about blow jobs.”
Good thing, too. His pants were becoming too tight in the groin, and he needed to focus.
“Besides, we don’t have a relationship,” she muttered.
He glanced along the broken store windows. “What else would you call it?”
She kept silent.
Yep. He wasn’t sure, either, but it was more than sex, and more than convenience. In fact, not much about Lynne Harmony was convenient. “Now you tell me about Bret, your uncle, and the last time you met up.”
She stiffened. “No. Need to concentrate on the mission.”
“With the safest route, we have a couple of hours in the car. Time to multitask.” He kept his voice low, but she would talk, and she would tell him everything. “Don’t mess with me, Lynne.”
“You have got to stop threatening me.”
Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to be gentle, and he was losing the patience needed to use reason. “How long after Bret killed the president did you escape?”
She held the gun in her lap, one hand over it, as if she didn’t want to pick it up. “About a month. Communications went down, and the Internet failed because of all the hacking.” When she thought, her lips pouted just a little. “Although the Internet would’ve failed at some point anyway. Not enough people to man the servers.”
“I know.”
“After I figured out Bret was a Ripper and that the CDC would soon shut down because we were losing people right and left, I stayed for about a month to gather as much information as I could find. We’d printed out all reports coming in throughout the world on Scorpius, figuring we might lose power at some point, so I just read and made notes.”
“Where are your notes?”
“Bret had his contacts in the CDC confiscate my records. But I
have a pretty good memory, so I’ve been doing my best to reconstruct them.”
Jax swallowed, not wanting to ask the next question. “During that month, what about you and Bret?”
Her hand tightened over the gun. “We were both very busy. He had to get sworn in and up to date on everything presidential, and I had intel to gather and more blood to give. Even though I was a test subject, I was also a key researcher.”
“You were the head of infectious diseases for the CDC before Scorpius unleashed itself, right?” Jax asked, turning down a side alley that looked fairly clear.
“Yes.” She ran her fingernail along the gun’s safety. “Bret couldn’t be seen with me, even though news coverage was spotty. But ultimately the CDC reached its end, and the buildings in D.C. and Atlanta were blown up—but I’m not sure about other locations.”
That’s right. He’d heard about the explosions. “The two facilities were blown up on purpose?”
“Of course. Once the power grid failed, we had to incinerate all the infectious diseases still present. We couldn’t have them getting loose without safeguards.” She swallowed, and her hand trembled. “I was to move to the White House that night.”
“So you called your uncle?” Jax asked softly, watching some shadows in the crumbling apartment building to his left.
Lynne leaned over to look out his window. “Rippers?”
“Maybe. You called your uncle?”
Lynne settled back in her seat. “We’d met up at my parents’ funeral months before and had kept in touch. The second Bret killed the sitting president, I called Uncle Bruce from a lab phone. Phones were still working at that point. We had a plan in place.”
“Your plan was to get to me.” That still didn’t make sense.
“My ultimate plan was to find Myriad, to prevent Bret from getting their research. Once I discovered Myriad was in L.A. somewhere, you became a necessary stop because if I could get your help, I could keep Bret off me long enough to get there. And I’d hoped through your raiding that you’d found the location of Myriad, even if you didn’t quite know what you had. Which was what happened, really. Although I certainly didn’t expect to lose Uncle Bruce, and I didn’t expect to choose to be in your bed.”